Don't Really Think

 Arthur returns to the sea.

Terence runs back to Gaius and Kant, with the Tic Tac box.

I've got it! says Terence.

He thrusts it towards them.

It rattles.

What's in it? asks Kant.

I doubt it's a Tic Tac, says Gaius.

Wrong! says Terence. It isn't a Tic Tac.

That's what I meant, says Gaius. I doubt means I don't really think.

I must contest that definition, says Kant.

My doubt refers specifically to the Tic Tac, says Gaius. 

What is it then? asks Terence.

We don't know, says Kant. 

It's a shard from Arthur's pus-chool, says Terence.

It's good it came out, says Gaius. Sometimes these things can remain in one's body.

And travel though the bloodstream, says Kant.

Then what? asks Terence.

It may keep on travelling, says Kant. 

But do we know this can happen? asks Gaius.

They agree that they don't.

Anyway, says Terence. Arthur told me to sprinkle sand on the shard.

Very well, says Gaius. You do that, but then we'll be going. I'll tell Arthur and Sweezus.

He walks along the shore waving his arms at the surfers.

But they are looking towards the horizon, for incoming waves.

Terence places the Tic Tac box on the wet sand, and flicks the small plastic lid open.

You'll need dry sand, says Kant.

Why? asks Terence. 

Easier to sprinkle, says Kant.

Terence runs up the beach to the dry sand.

Kant remains with the Tic Tac box.

He peers in through the tiny aperture.

The glass shard catches the sun and gleams back at him.

What does it remember of its travels?

A new philosophical thought begins to take shape in Kant's head.